Reborn: From the Rush of the Wind
by Lithyka
Summary: Sure, I always loved books and dragons. Sure, I sometimes dreamt of soaring over the countryside on my own two wings. Sure, I wanted my girl Acacia with me too…. But I wasn't prepared for it to actually happen! And definitely not this way!


Disclaimer: I don't own the Inheritance Cycle or whatever this series is called! Yep, I'm that bad. What did you expect from a Transfan drawn into a challenge for dragon stories?

I have read Eragon, though, so I won't be that bad.

This story is a sister story to thentheslayer's Reborn: From Fire and Flame, written for the purpose of comparison and competition. Feel free to review by comparing the two, pointing out their strengths and weaknesses.

And leave a review. Thentheslayer's story got five reviews within a day- I believe this story can do better!

* * *

"Did you ever want to be a dragon?" Cecil asked.

I turned and looked at my friend, who happened to love the exact opposite of what I did. I couldn't understand why one would want to play basketball instead of the flute and watch YouTube videos instead of proper movies.

"Yes," I answered immediately.

That was the only adequate thing that happened all day until Band, because I happened to be the most picked on person in the whole grade. The school bullies snuck up on me as I began to explain to Cecil about the fine points of being a dragon as I imagined it.

"Boo," someone hissed.

I yelped and fell forwards, dropping my precious flute in the process.

"Oh, look who tripped," Dennis, the leader of the pack, jeered.

"Nerd," snorted one of his followers. I couldn't tell who it was, as I was sprawled on the ground, trying to find my flute without my glasses, which had been knocked off.

"Teacher coming!" Cecil shouted.

The bullies ran off, falling for Cecil's impersonation of one of them.

"Thanks," I gasped, finally finding my glasses and putting them on, picking up the flute beside it. I quickly opened the case and inspected the instrument for any damage. If they had broken it, if they had left even a scratch on it, I would never forgive them...

"Is it okay?" Cecil asked, bending down to help me pick up my bag.

"It's fine," I replied, checking the keys again.

"Great. We should go now. They might be back, and besides, we're late for Maths."

The rest of my day was spent avoiding bullies and panicking over what could've happened to my flute. However, when the last bell rang for the day, all was forgotten as I ran out of the English classroom and to the hall.

There was a reason I loved Wednesday afternoons, and that reason was band.

The musicians of the school are divided into two bands- creatively named the Senior Band and Junior Band. The names are boring, but nobody ever got confused by them. Besides, names don't define the groups anyway. If the band rehearsals were boring, I wouldn't love Wednesday afternoons, would I?

Being a Year Eight flute player, I was put in the Junior Band, along with everyone else from Years Seven to Nine. Despite spanning three grades, we only have five flute players, two trumpets, a trombone, a saxophone and a handful of percussionists. What's ironic, though, is that there are eleven clarinet players.

Why would you want to play a clarinet anyway? They sound like someone being strangled by a cymbal, if that's even possible. And they squeak, oh, how they squeak...

If you ask me, everyone should drop those reeds and come to play the flute instead.

Anyways, after Band, I always catch the bus home. The 891 happens to drop me off right outside my house, which is convenient if you're tired from blowing into what the ruder members of the clarinet section call an 'overgrown whistle' for two hours, but annoying when you want to stay on the bus with your...

Dare I call her my girlfriend?

Acacia Abigail Layton, also known as Abby (since she thought that her first name was too tree-like) is my fellow flute player and very good friend. Some think there's chemistry going on between us. I wouldn't call them wrong, but I can't help but feel that we're a bit too young for this. I mean, really? We're in Year Eight. Only the people in Year Eleven and above are engaged in... That kind of thing.

"Hey! Kai!"

Acacia caught up to me at the bus stop, waving cheerfully. She looked beautiful- her long, dark hair streaming behind her in its plait, shining in the sun. I could imagine how soft and silky it felt as I stroked it...

I shook myself out of my daydream and waved back at her. I was lucky nobody could read my mind, or I'd have been finished ages ago. There were plenty of idiots at school who would've been more than happy to spread the gossip.

Acacia sat down on the bench beside me, placing her flute case in her lap.

"So, what's your favourite day of the week?" she asked, turning her head so that her sparkling blue eyes met mine.

"Wednesday," I replied without hesitation. "I live for Wednesdays."

"I can guess why," Acacia replied. "With that level of flute playing, I'm surprised they didn't jump you to the senior band."

"I wouldn't have accepted. You're not there in the senior band."

Acacia smiled softly at me, and we sat in comfortable silence until the 891 appeared around the corner.

"Bus is here!" called Acacia, jumping up before I even saw the bus. My eyesight was nowhere near as good as hers, and it was all I could do to scramble up and follow her as she hailed the bus, which stopped in front of us. Acacia hopped on, pushing her bus pass through the ticket machine. She headed to a seat near the rear of the bus, and I instinctively followed, forgetting to greet the bus driver.

The 891 was never full, except at rush hours. At five in the afternoon, it was almost empty. The only other people on the bus were a mother and her little girl, who was throwing up unceremoniously on the seat. They obviously wouldn't care much about what we were doing.

Acacia was sitting, watching them when I reached her. I sat down beside her, noticing that she looked a little pale.

"You okay?" I asked.

She nodded, tearing her eyes away from the vomiting girl.

"I just felt a little sick," she murmured. "It's okay."

Acacia turned to look out the window. Not wanting to be rude, I turned away from her and found myself looking at the young girl instead. She was throwing up so loudly I was surprised that the bus driver didn't notice. Beside me, Acacia coughed, and I couldn't have been more relieved when the girl's mother took her off at the next stop.

"You know, you're not a bad flute player either," I told Acacia, hoping I could get her mind off anything related to puke.

Acacia turned around again.

"Thanks," she replied, smiling.

My brain couldn't conjure up anything interesting to say, so I just smiled back at her, grinning like a madman at her perfect face.

"Play me something," I finally said, my train of thought starting up again.

Acacia reached down and picked up her flute, which had somehow fallen down to the ground in the course of the last five minutes. She quickly assembled it and smiled as she began to play.

The tune was instantly recognisable.

"Take Me with the Rush of the Wind," I murmured, the striking flute melody filling the air. Almost subconsciously, I took out my own flute and began to play along as she reached the chorus.

The tune was truly an enchanting one. It was the first song we'd done all term that didn't have the clarinets constantly in the melody, and it was the best melody I'd ever heard. It was mystical and beautiful, and had a lulling feeling. Every time I heard it, I felt like closing my eyes. Because I'd remembered the notes, I could do just that.

Acacia had clearly done the same. We swept through the chorus, ignoring the tiny mistakes in the tune and slight screeches. Our eyes closed, we reveled in the music until the song ended. After that, I kept my eyes closed anyway. I didn't want this moment to end. There was nothing that felt as good as hearing the tune of an uplifting song, taking your spirit high. It sounded so much better than the sound of a squeaky clarinet or a rumbling bus...

We had been on a bus. I couldn't hear the engine anymore. I couldn't hear anything.

I hoped that I was simply deafened from hearing the song. In my panic, I completely forgot that I could see. It was only a minute later that I managed to convince myself that I was overreacting and allowed myself to look again.

The second I opened my eyes, I nearly fainted.

This definitely wasn't a bus, unless if buses were supposed to be covered in lichen and moss.

The landscape I was in was surrounded by trees. I was sitting on a rock in the middle of a clearing. My flute was nowhere to be seen, and neither was the bus or my other items. Thankfully, I could still see Acacia. She was unconscious, lying on her back on the rock beside me. I would've mused on how beautiful she looked if it wasn't for that fact that I had more pressing matters to attend to.

There had been something wrong with that bus ride all along. I had sensed it, but I couldn't pinpoint what was strange. Now, suddenly, it hit me.

The bus had had no driver.

Nobody had insisted on me presenting my ticket when I boarded. Nobody had noticed the sick little girl. Nobody had complained about our flute playing. There had been nobody there to do that.

I was instantly thrown into a panic. I was a high school student! I was a nerd and a musician! I wasn't made for this stuff!

A sharp pain shot up my arm as I banged it against the rock. I lay back and stared at the sky, wondering how severe this situation really was. No amount of algebra equations could've prepared me for this.

I closed my eyes, hoping that I could somehow transport back into my normal world. I didn't care if there were bullies and clarinet players. I just wanted to be back where I could have some grasp over the situation. I forced myself to calm down, and it was then that I heard the tune.

It was a soft melody, which was why I hadn't noticed it before. The music drifted along with the light breeze, filling my hearing range. I focused on the song. It was my only distraction from the confusion of this world. It swept my spirits upwards, like the rushing of the wind.

"Take Me with the Rush of the Wind," I murmured.

The calm, soothing introduction ended and the chorus started. So did my transformation.

I barely felt it at first. Just a mild tingling on my hands and feet. I ignored it, as the music was irresistible. No matter how many times I'd heard the song, I always wanted to hear it again.

Then, the pain came.

My skin felt like it was being torn apart as it rippled over, turning into what felt like scales. It started at my extremities and reached closer, overlapping one another as they reached towards my chest. I screamed at the sudden pain, but the music was irresistible as always, calming me down to a certain extent and trapping my shrieks inside me for fear of it going away.

I couldn't lose the tune.

Finally, the last scale fell into place right above my heart. There was a brief respite as the music softened, but I knew this tune well. When it lowered, it would always rise in a crescendo again, lifting the melody higher and louder.

Next to change were my nails. Or rather, claws. My once pristine nails shot out of my scale-clad fingertips, hardening and thickening into sharp talons. I didn't scream- I couldn't. The music was restraining me.

The pain was like a music fountain. When the song softened, I was relieved. When it rose, I was filled with burning agony.

When was it going to end?

I silently pleaded with whatever cruel force of the universe this was to end it, to make it stop. I was confused, unsure what was happening. Scales? Claws? It was making my head spin, and I felt like I couldn't take anymore.

Then, the pain truly started.

My body was thrown into spasms, expanding with each throb of my overworked, tortured muscles. Skyrocketing agony shot up my frame as it grew to over ten times its previous size, becoming more bulky in both bone and flesh.

I would've dropped at that point if it weren't for the musical bonds holding me in place. It was my friend, as well as my torturer. It kept me from struggling as the pain wracked my transformed, twisted body and changed it into something I didn't know about.

After what felt like an eternity of rolling and turning in pain, I stopped growing. Another round of the chorus had ended. It was, however, only a brief rest, like before.

My teeth shot out of my mouth. They were suddenly razor sharp, multiplying and turning to the fangs and points of a carnivore. Spines shot out of my back, curving back towards my tail and ending at its tip. Horns curled their way out of my skull, and the music was still keeping me in place, never releasing its hold, even for a second.

Three choruses past. If this song was a performance and not an endless loop that would run forever, I was nearing the end.

After the same break, my back arched back in agony as explosive pain seemed to tear the muscles, and a pair of thin, membranous wings burst out, unfurling like the sails of a Viking long ship and catching onto the wind.

"Take Me with the Rush of the Wind," I whispered, as the music finally ended, taking my dreadful transformation with it. I could finally relax, and next thing I knew, all went black.

* * *

I woke to a splash of water.

Spluttering, I shook my head to clear my thoughts. This didn't feel like my body.

I reached up to rub my eyes, and caught sight of my newly found claw. Instantaneously thrown into a panic, I flopped around, taking in what I had turned into. I was covered in orange-ish red scales, which were fan shaped like inverted triangles- they were pointed at the top and rounded at the bottom. In a puddle of water, I noticed that my eyes were a matching shade of orange.

After a bit of wriggling, I finally managed to catch sight of my back and tail. My back was covered in spines, which reached all the way down to the tip of my tail. A pair of membrane wings stretched out from my back. The frame holding them in place was obvious, and I tried flapping them experimentally. They hurt.

Now that I thought of it, everything hurt. My back was sore, and felt like it had been torn apart and stuck back together. My hands- no, my claws- ached. Every bone and muscle in my entire body was burning with pain. I winced and tried to ignore it by looking around.

I was lying on a rock. There were trees everywhere. The sky was blue. This felt like home, but something was different.

My head was spinning, but I couldn't suppress the one thought. What had happened? How did I get here? Why had I been turned into this... dragon?

"Kytho. Hey, are you okay?"

Only then did I notice that someone was calling me.

"Acacia?" I managed to croak, seeing my friend. My throat hurt, probably from screaming silently.

"Kytho! What happened? Can you see yourself? You're a dragon!"

I scrambled into a sitting position, sending her running out of the way.

"What happened?"

"That's what I just asked you! Do you ever listen?"

"All I remember is pain..."

"I know. I saw everything."

I looked down at my claws again, studying each individual scale in detail. They ran downwards to my talons, which were short, yet sharp.

"This is awesome!" Acacia was babbling. I paid no attention to her and focused on remembering how I got here.

I took a deep breath. What was the last thing I remembered?

"Take Me with the Rush of the Wind," I gasped, as suddenly all the memories of my transformation came flooding back to me. I remembered the music fountain of agony, and in painful detail the order of my species-shift.

"What rush of the wind? Kytho, what are you on about?"

Everything was a breeze to remember from there. I knew exactly what had happened before and after I came into this world. Acacia and I were playing our flutes on a bus. We were suddenly teleported here. Acacia was unconscious. I heard a tune, and transformed into a dragon.

It sounded so simple when I put it that way, but it still didn't make much sense.

I still had to figure out why we were transported here.

"The Rush of the Wind," I chanted, over and over, as if it would somehow help me understand.

It didn't.

An entire minute of hard, brain-wracking thinking and I couldn't come up with a reason why. I gave up and switched to another question- why had I been changed into a dragon and not Acacia?

We had been playing 'Take Me with the Rush of the Wind' when we switched worlds. Then, I had heard it playing as I transformed. It had some connection to the situation.

"It's because I'm the better flute player!" I suddenly blurted, a realisation coming down on me.

"What?" replied Acacia. "I mean, I knew that, but-"

"That's why I was chosen!"

I was the better flute player. Not that I'm bragging, but I am better than Acacia- and that was why I was chosen to be a dragon. I wasn't sure how that affected me turning into a dragon, but I knew that Acacia couldn't hear the tune as I changed. It made no sense, but my flute had something to do with it.

"I'm better than you at flute! That's why!"

Acacia scowled at me.

"Now you're just being a show-off."

I felt my temper flare. Me? A show-off? I was merely stating facts!

"Well it's the truth! And if you can't face it, it's your own problem!"

"What kind of boyfriend says that kind of stuff to his girl?"

"I never said you were my girl!"

"Well, you acted that way!"

"Shut up! SHUT UP!"

"You shut up, you ungrateful, vain lizard!"

"Well that's it! I'm leaving!"

"See if I care! And you'd better never come back! I don't want to see your ugly face ever again!"

"And I don't want to see you either! I don't care if you die in this forest!"

"I hope you do die in this forest!"

Acacia's face was flushed pink with fury. She swiveled and stormed off in a random direction into the forest, sticking her tongue out at me. I spun and took off in the opposite direction, taking to the skies and testing out my new wings.

They worked fine. It was some kind of dragon instinct, keeping me aloft. As I flew, feeling the wind on my wings, I allowed myself to calm down, and ponder the situation again.

I veered right and flew towards the sunset, a soft tune drifting with me.

"Take Me with the Rush of the Wind."

* * *

Author's note: I completely disagree with Kytho's opinion of clarinets. I'm a clarinet player in real life and I would never 'drop those reeds and come to play the flute instead'. Anyways, leave a review!


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